Returning
The pure wind never stops it beats within (hridaya) the unknowable essence of your heart. As someone said, don’t think, do. Nothing dies. We are part of life’s circle. You are the wave that fans the ocean of always returning.
Category: poetry
Songs of experience.
I got a broken foot and I hobble up and down the street singing songs of experience. Dylan is my constant companion from my Astoria hotel to the blue sky cafe. I see Captain sunshine he waves to me as I pass by. Street urchins warn me to be careful. Transvestites hang outside the cafe. […]
Watch “Charles Bukowski reads Born into This” on YouTube
I humbly submit this as a greater poem than Bluebird. Tough, uncompromising, brutal, and beautiful.. Bukowski was no angel but he was a great writer, though not as great as Henry Miller. Under Capricorn was majestic in its language and poetry a kin of James Joyce , however this is a great reading and no […]
Maulana
There is nothing in the city , and no man needs nothing. I was invited to a dance. Not your ordinary dance this was a Sema ,the sacred dance of the Sufi. It came about some say through grief of one’s unconditional love of another. Shams , a beggar bum dervish madman of wisdom came […]
There
There was nothing special about living above a laundry. I had a concrete Buddha on the window sill looking over junkies and school children. My Buddha saw all sorts of tits and cunts. It was Fitzroy and hip , well it was sort of hip except for us poor cunts on Hanover Street. The Chinese […]
Fake it !
He lived in a hut not far from the monastery . It was tiny , an old wood hut like Jeramiah Johnson. He told me he was a crazy poet in the 1960’s. Golden Park was big time in San Francisco. He knew poets who knew poets and ended up in the Paris Review thirty […]
Watch “Walking | Poets Read Poetry | Jim Harrison” on YouTube
Walking long road summerchild through green hills laden with bushlands of smoke and song, walking Buddha road of crazy wisdom vajraanya chants between roo and fog and insane Tara moons , walking road of gone casino, lost dollars , long lost steps ringing girlfriend with last cent accussed of infidelity during breakfast morn , walking […]
Jude
In front of me is a giant white gum tree, it’s boughs reminds of nakedness, flesh, eroticism of nature hardly recognised. Looking at the gum I think of the last time we made love on your old milk crate bed wearing a pork pie hat quoting Patti Smith while I told you about the light […]
A little koan afternoon
If, as you say , past, present, and future cannot be grasped , which one do you eat your cake in? Assigned this question as a koan .” Away with such stale cake!”. ….Peter Mathiessen’s book ‘ The nine headed dragon river’.
100 breaths
There is no silence while breathing early morning sounds of frog somewhere, incense dying along the light, one hundred breaths take so long . Then why does life seem short. Heart Sutra chanted softly , frog sound nothing but leaking tap.
BillyPilgrim 